


Moldy Warts

by semaphoredrivethru



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why would you want to muffle us?” Buffy asked.</p><p>“Muggle, Buffy,” Giles corrected.</p><p>“Oh, and <em>that</em> makes so much more sense.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moldy Warts

“So I said, ‘No, it’s a goose,’ and she said ‘No, _duck_ ,’ and then _bam_! the next thing I knew Faith was pulling her sword out of a big ugly with horns in nasty places and my shoulder was hurting like he—real bad.”

Giles took his glasses off and wiped at the lenses with the end of his tie. Even with the world blessedly out of focus, he knew Buffy had her arms crossed in front of her chest and that she was giving her younger sister _the look_ ; the look that clearly said she was positive that there had been some sort of mistake and that there was no way she and Dawn were related.

“See, Giles?” Buffy was saying. “This is why Dawn shouldn’t be out in the field without me.”

Giles replaced his glasses. “And what do you propose we do then?” he asked. “It’s not as though we have a library to do research in anymore and you know that we need all the man power we can muster these days.”

“Woman power,” Dawn corrected. Giles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he checked the bandage on the teen’s shoulder. She had received a nasty gash when the Golgoth demon had attacked, but by the way she was acting one would think it was just a scratch.

“I think this is going to need stitches,” Giles said. “And there’s the mucus concern, as well.”

“Ew, gross,” Dawn said. “But I didn’t see a nose on it.”

“Golgoth demons excrete a kind of mucus through their claws,” Giles explained as he put the first aid supplies away. “It’s a slow-acting poison, but nothing the proper professional can’t handle.”

“That’s just great,” Buffy said. “And where are we going to find one of these ‘professionals’ in the middle of London?”

“I know just the place,” he said cryptically.

~*~*~

“Giles, this is an abandoned department store, not a hospital.”

“And you are just an ordinary young woman,” he said. “Appearances can be deceiving, Buffy. Follow me.”

Giles looked up and down the darkened and nearly empty street to make sure no one was watching and then he stepped through the dirty display window. Buffy looked at Dawn; her sister was beginning to turn a disturbing shade of pale.

“Come on,” she said with a shrug, pulling on Dawn’s uninjured arm to follow the former Watcher.

On the other side, they found themselves in a waiting room, with what looked like a solid wall behind them. There was a desk on one side, with a sign above it that read “Check In” and several unoccupied wooden benches on the other side. In the area between, Giles was standing, already talking to a short, plump, middle-aged woman wearing pale green robes that made her look like she had just stepped out of some period film. He handed the woman a cream-colored business card covered in curling script.

“A Golgoth demon,” Giles was saying. “About an hour and a half ago.”

The woman looked at the card and nodded. “I see. Follow me, then,” she said to Dawn. 

Buffy made to follow, but the woman stopped her. “You’ll have to stay here, miss,” the woman said. “At least until we’ve finished.”

“Oh, I don’t –“ Buffy began, but Giles put a hand on her elbow.

“Of course,” he said. “We’ll wait here, then. Come along, Buffy.”

She followed Giles to one of the wooden benches and sat next to him, a mutinous scowl on her face. Buffy slumped in her seat and shot a worried glance in the direction Dawn had left in.

“She’s in good hands,” Giles said. “The staff of St. Mungo’s is among the best in England and they’ll have her right as rain in no time.”

Buffy watched as a woman in and dark green dress and pointed hat walked through the wall from the street and headed straight for the reception desk. As she passed Buffy and Giles, the woman gave a loud belch that produced a shower of blue sparks.

“Yeah, sure,” Buffy muttered.

~*~*~

After more than an hour of waiting, even Giles was beginning to shift in his seat. “I wonder what’s taking so long?” he said more to himself than anyone else.

“Do you think there’s a problem?” Buffy asked. “I knew I should have gone with her.”

“No,” he assured her. “They would have told us if there was and it’s a fairly simple series of potions, really. I just hope there wasn’t a problem with my license; it should still be valid.”

Before Buffy could ask him what he meant, the woman who had lead Dawn away earlier came back. She walked up to Buffy and Giles, her face impassive.

“Would you come with me, please?” she asked.

Buffy arched an eyebrow, but stood and followed Giles and the woman. “Is Dawn okay?” she asked the woman.

“Your sister is just fine,” she said. “Resting comfortably, in fact; I’ll take you to her shortly.”

The woman led them to an unmarked door. “In here, please,” she said, opening the door for them. Once Buffy and Giles walked in the room, the woman closed the door, leaving them in the pale green room with a thin, young, red-headed man with wire-rimmed glasses and a plain wooden desk.

“Ah,” the young man said, shuffling his papers. “Mr. Giles, Miss Summers; please have a seat. My name is Percy Weasley, assistant to the Minster of Magic.”

Buffy bit back a comment about over-delegation, but couldn’t stop the smirk. Giles gave her a borderline-patient look over the edge of his glasses.

“Pleasure,” Giles said flatly. “Is there a problem with my license?”

Weasley shook his head. “No, everything is in order; we won’t be administering any _Obliviate_ charms tonight. I’m here on behalf of the Department of Magical Creatures, not Muggle Affairs.”

“Why would you want to muffle us?” Buffy asked.

“Muggle, Buffy,” Giles corrected.

“Oh, and _that_ makes so much more sense.”

Weasley cleared his throat, and adjusted the collar around his thin neck. “Yes, well,” he said, “we’re glad you’re here, actually. Since the awakening of the Potentials, I’m sure you are aware of the influx of thousands of Slayers.”

“Thousands, huh?” Buffy interrupted. She turned to Giles. “Pay up.”

“Not _now_ ,” he breathed.

“And,” Weasley continued as though they hadn’t spoken, “according to the International Magical Creatures Registration Act of 1940, all Slayers need to be listed with their countries of origin. With the loss of the Watcher’s Council, there no longer is a specific governing body to administer to this need.”

“We have been locating the girls as fast as we can,” Giles said. “But our records of the Potentials were lost in the explosion two years ago. We have been using word of mouth and location spells and we’ve been having a decent enough of a success rate.”

“But not fast enough, I’m afraid.”

“You think you can do better?” Buffy demanded, then frowned as she added, “And did you call me a ‘Magical Creature?’”

Weasley smiled smugly. “As a matter of fact, Miss Summers, I know for a fact that we can do better.”

“Just so you know,” Buffy said, “I really don’t like you.”

Weasley smiled thinly. “No matter,” he said. “By authority of the IMCRA, the Ministry of Magic has the power to intervene in the process of locating the newly wakened Slayers.”

Buffy balled her hands into fists, but saw Giles shake his head once, so she decided not to hit this royal British pain in the ass. Yet.

“What do you propose?” Giles asked. “Because I’m sure you’re aware that any registration activities must be agreed upon by representatives of the group in question.”

Weasley raised an eyebrow; he obviously hadn’t thought Giles would know the law that well. “Teams will be formed. Due to the… volatile nature and super-human strength of Slayers, one member of each two-person team would be a registered Slayer, and the other a witch or wizard of our choosing. Once a possible new Slayer is identified, a team will be sent to investigate and to retrieve the Slayer if there is one.”

“Wow,” Buffy said flatly. “Your government is even worse with the up-in-other-people’s-business than the Watchers’ Council. At least they backed off once in a while.”

“And we all know what happened to _them_ ,” Weasley countered. “There is little room for negotiation here; if you know the IMCRA as well as it seems you do, then you also know that there are steps that the Ministry can take to obtain full control of this situation.”

Giles scowled. “Then I fail to see another option,” he muttered. “Buffy?”

Buffy cocked her head to the side, thinking carefully. “I’ll say yes,” she said. “On one condition: this isn’t permanent. If it doesn’t work out, then we get to find a better way. I’ve beaten one government agency, I can take you.”

Giles sighed and removed his spotless glasses to clean them anyway.

“We’ll see about that, Miss Summers,” Weasley said. “The paperwork will be sent to you via owl once our offices open in the morning.”

“Owl?” Buffy asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Giles said to her out of the corner of his mouth. To Weasley, he said, “Are we finished then? We would like to see Dawn now.”

Weasley nodded. “Yes. Mediwitch Winggot will take you to her now. Thank you for your time.” He gestured to the door, and returned to his papers, clearly dismissing them.

Giles stood and he and Buffy walked out of the office. The older woman in the pale green robes was waiting for them. They followed her further down the hall, into a stairwell and up several flights of stairs.

Buffy and Giles found themselves standing in another hallway much like the first one. The woman gestured to a door marked by a simple brass plaque that read “Muggle Ward.”

“Your sister is inside,” she said and walked away.

“Friendly, much?” Buffy muttered.

Giles just sighed as he pushed the door open.

Inside, there were two long rows of neatly made beds. Only two beds were occupied, although one of them was actually two feet beneath a levitating man who wavered up and down with his snores. Dawn was in the other bed, sitting up and kicking her feet back and forth as they dangled off the bed. When she saw her sister and Giles, she jumped out of bed and scampered up to them.

“This place is so cool,” she said. She pointed to the floating man. “Did you see that guy? They wouldn’t tell me what happened to him, but I bet that it’s way better than demon mucus.”

“I would imagine so,” Giles said. “I suppose we ought to find someone to see if we can leave, though.”

“Oh, we can go,” Dawn said brightly. “They gave me a bunch of nasty-tasting medicines to take in the morning and said I need to come back in a week, though.”

“Oh, well,” Giles said. “Let’s go, then.”

Dawn gathered her collection of bottles and they left the ward. Just before the door closed behind them, she turned to Giles.

“What’s a ‘Moldy Wart?’” she asked. “And why are they so worried about it?”


End file.
